Circadian
by reclariant
Summary: Ford is getting tired of having his sleep disrupted.


Title: Circadian  
Author: reclariant  
Feedback: Yes, please.  
Season/Episode: Season One  
Spoilers: Siege II

Disclaimer: The characters of Stargate: Atlantis do not belong to me; you can tell because they keep their shirts on.

The new CO had some very definite ideas as to how Atlantis should be run. As Aiden padded silently through the darkened corridors, sidearm in hand, he allowed himself some uncharitable thoughts about the newly-instigated training drills. While he was well aware of the need for preparation in case of an attack, and was for the idea of clear emergency protocol, Ford held some doubts as to the likelihood of a complete systems shutdown coinciding with a raiding party. He had even more objections to the random exercises being conducted in the middle of the night.

Colonel Everett was very loudly spoken on the laxity of the previous command (which made Ford bristle), especially in instigating emergency procedure. Apparently, their so-far successful method of evacuating the city in case of threat wasn't up to the Colonel's standards, who was very firm in his stance of defending the city. Sergeant Bates had been asked to make some recommendations, and as he was used to being ignored might have overstated the facts somewhat. Four midnight training drills later, Ford thought that what was probably only a mildly exaggerated good idea was getting out of hand.

They were currently practising an infiltration scenario which alerted only a few personnel to the threat, and relied upon them to rouse the base and mount defenses. Happily, Ford thought, he was one of the Chosen Few. Having already dragged a reluctant Major Sheppard out of bed and waking Sergeant Bates (who, Ford was viciously pleased to note, was starting to look as put-upon as the rest of them) he was slowly making his way to Dr McKay's quarters. The scientist's rooms were close to the wing that housed both the labs and the scientists that worked in them, while still being central to the control room. Ford had no doubts that this strategic placement had been carefully chosen by the doctor. As it was, that was where his team and a few department heads would meet to asses the situation before attempting to access the control room.

Ford peered around a corner, his flashlight beam and the pale light filtering down from the high windows his only illumination. The coast was clear, and he detached himself from the shadows to move swiftly to the brightly-paneled door of his destination. Carefully opening the door manually, as McKay had instructed him, he slipped into the scientist's room. He frowned as he his eyes adjusted to the faint light- the blue screen of a laptop running on battery power, he assumed. The bed was empty, and looked as though a half-hearted attempt to pull the covers up had been made. Gingerly moving through the drifts of paper, books, abandoned clothes and power cords that littered the floor, Aiden made his way to where McKay slumped against the tiny desk, head cradled in his arms and snoring softly. An abandoned mug sat empty at his elbow, and the computer hummed as it ran a dizzying sequence of numbers across the screen. Aiden checked his watch- the greenish glow-in-the dark display informed him it was past oh-three-hundred.

Behind him, the door hissed open, and a disheveled looking Major Sheppard crept into the room with an immaculate Dr Weir in tow. Sheppard took a quick survey of his surroundings and sighed. Motioning Ford to be quiet, he excavated a lonely chair from under a mountain of paperwork and offered it to Elizabeth. She nodded her thanks and sat, indicating that they leave the dozing scientist be. Ford suddenly half-remembered a snatch of nonsense about sleeping dragons, and smiled in the darkness.

Major Sheppard leaned in beside him and murmured that McKay had been kicked out of the labs about two hours ago, and evidently still hadn't made it into bed. Ford knew, with sudden sparkling clarity, that it was the major who had prised the scientist from his work, probably getting out of bed himself to do so. He also realised, with a somewhat guilty start, that he saw McKay every day at breakfast- at oh-seven-thirty, before their morning briefing. He grimaced in the dark, trying to reconcile the numbers in his head with some sort of normal sleep pattern. As he was resolving to ease up on him morning needling a bit, the door whooshed open again, revealing Teyla and Dr Beckett, both of whom looked far too alert for this late at night. Or early in the morning, Aiden amended, recognizing that his chances of getting any more sleep were growing progressively slimmer.

Dr Weir stood up to greet them, just as the lights sprung to full brightness and McKay's laptop switched from its number crunching to a video feed. The obviously recorded image showed the tired-looking scientist, along with Dr Zelenka, who was practically comatose beside him.

"Attention, Atlantis. If you're seeing this it means that we've had more than five of those ridiculous emergency drills in the last two weeks. As myself, along with the rest of the science team, place a high value on our sleeping time an automatic system has been put in place that restarts all systems within half an hour of them being overridden. The override cannot be overridden without the access codes, which only myself and Dr Zelenka have, and we aren't giving them to you until we feel much more disposed to do so. Any further attempts to get us up in the middle of the night except in the case of a real emergency will be met with sarcasm and possibly a civil uprising. Thankyou, have a nice day."

The last was delivered with a smug grin as the video shut down. Dr McKay had jerked awake at the sudden brightness of the room, and now closed the laptop as he glanced around slightly blearily. He made shooing motions towards the door as he ambled from the desk to his bed, where he collapsed without bothering to get under the covers. Ford grinned as the lights dimmed and the door snapped shut behind him. The bemused faces of the expedition heads lifted his mood even further, as they unanimously decided to go back to bed. He spared a quick thought for the dozen or so marines that would still be 'guarding' the control room, waiting for the drill response and no doubt wondering if they could turn in like everybody else. Aiden looked forward to the extra three or so hours of sleep he could possibly manage now, and decided to worry about them, and the enraged CO, in the morning. Or better yet, let McKay sort it out.


End file.
